


What My Reflection Is

by LittleMissHeartfillia



Series: The Rolling Pin [3]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rogue still loves him tho, Sting's gay ass is a mess, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, WWTDP, sting gets his period without T oh boy!, transgender!sting, with a fluffy end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 12:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissHeartfillia/pseuds/LittleMissHeartfillia
Summary: Sting Eucliffe's day could not get any worse. He was drowning in responsibilities, stress, and just plain losing control of reality. Little does Sting know how much his friends already see his struggle. So he learns that no matter what Rogue will be there for him.





	What My Reflection Is

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the universe of The Rolling Pin this one takes place the morning after Protect What's Yours. Another contribution to ftlgbtales october event. Day 1: Reflections.

Sting looked out of the arched brick windows wishing he could find their beauty today. Every day since he started working at The Rolling Pin coffee/bakery shop he had loved to stare out those windows. Vines framed the sides of the glass, hanging in perfect aesthetic formation with the red brick of the building.

Only a month into living in Sabertooth square and working this job and Sting had already filled a scrapbook with various polaroids, prints and scraps of memories from his time working here. He liked looking back at the scrapbook sometimes when the pressure of being on his own in a new place got to him.

Yes this place was lovely, but today the beauty of it fell on blind eyes. Sting found nothing about today lovely at all. When he moved here he had still had some money left over in a bank account for emergencies. But now that so many weeks had passed most of that was gone to handle rent and daily expenses.

Sure he had a job but cashiering at the local bakery meant he was only rolling in doubt and uncertainty rather than the big bucks. He’d been trying for a long time now to make a name for himself as a photographer but every post on his website was like screaming into the void. No one heard and no one cared. To top it all off Sting hadn’t had the money to keep paying his medical bills and had fallen behind on his T in favor to keep paying rent. And when he fell behind on his T bad things happened. This time he’d started bleeding.

So here was Sting, bleeding and in pain, hunched over the counter at his work watching customers happily munch on their donuts. Even the sight of food made his stomach churn. He hadn’t eaten anything all day but at this point he doubted he could even force food down his throat.

He had tried for most of his shift to ignore the pain and his humiliation but he still had two more hours to go and Sting was ready to drown himself under the nozzle of the coffee maker while it was on full blast. At least he was here alone with Yukino, so no one else had to see his shame. The particular no one he was worried about was Rogue. Saturday’s were his days off and the bakery was small enough to be run smoothly by him and Yukino, so Sting was safe for today.

Or so Sting thought. No sooner had he told himself it was a good thing his boss wasn’t here than did the wind chimes sound, signaling the front door opening, and Rogue strut in. He was in the most dressed down apparel Sting had ever seen on him, just jeans and a Tee that featured the logo of some heavy metal band Sting didn’t recognize.

But his hair was still pulled back into that too attractive ponytail and Sting’s knees grew weaker than they already were. He nearly bit down on his tongue in shock. Sting quickly stood up straight, definitely not leaning his head into his hand with a bored expression while at work behind the counter. Definitely not unprofessional.

“Heeyy,” Sting called trying to let the word drag out so Rogue would think it was nothing more than a friendly greeting.

“Afternoon, Sting,” Rogue said naturally flashing him a perfect smile. Yukino came around the corner carrying a tub of dirty dishes and stopped by Rogue with a sweet smile.

“Hello, Rogue. I thought you didn’t like to come in on Saturdays?”

Rogue chuckled and scratched at the back of his neck. Even the way he rose his arms was attractive. _God, I’m so gay_ . Sting thought as another wave of pain hit him and he scowled. _And miserable...oh yeah._ He quickly looked away, pretending to be busy messing with the pastry display even though it was already arranged to perfect symmetry.

“I don’t,” Rogue replied. “But apparently Minerva forgot the books here yesterday so she asked me to get them.”

Yukino sighed and said in an overly sweet voice, “She’s still hung over huh?”

Rogue gave a half scoff half chuckle. “Yeah. But she insists on doing the finances. I even told her to take today off but she wouldn’t have it.”

Yukino’s laugh was as lovely as the wind chimes on the front door. “She tries very hard, doesn’t she?”

“Almost too hard,” Rogue agreed. “Anyway keep up the good work.” Rogue gave her a pat on the arm and she nodded, disappearing behind the door of the kitchen with her tub of dishes.

Rogue walked over by the counter where Sting was still fumbling with the pastries. “How are you holding up?” came Rogue’s deep voice. Even though Sting knew he was there he hadn’t been expecting a chat and the sudden address startled him. He jumped, hitting his head off the top of the glass display.

“Ah!” Sting yelped rubbing at the top of his messy head of hair. Gods he hoped he didn’t look as horrible as he felt. Up close like this Rogue would definitely notice. “Jus-Just fine,” Sting said none too convincingly.

Rogue raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry I had to call you in today. But after Lucy left to go pursue her big writer’s break we’ve been short some really capable workers.”

Sting shrugged. “‘Is fine. Liquor doesn’t get to me as much as it does Minerva.” Sting tried for a chuckle but even to him he sounded unenthusiastic. “Glad I can be your secondhand fill in, though.” Ah yes, the only thing Sting knew how to do when nervous. Self-deprecate your way into a joke and out of a conversation.

Rogue gave him a patient smile as he moved behind Sting and began searching the register drawers for the book of the store’s income and expenses. “You’re much more than that by now, Sting. You’re part of the family.”

Sting scoffed and returned to trying to look busy, this time he chose a rag from his waist apron pocket and wiped down non-existent spots on the counter. “We’re a family now? What does that make me, the adopted son you just can’t wait to send back into the system or the step-child that’s only in the family from a previous marriage?”

Rogue gave him a sly look and tried for a chuckle. If Rogue was going to say more Sting never got to hear it. A horrible retching sound came from the front of the store. There was a taller glass display that held the pastry specials on top of the register counter. So his view was blocked but Sting saw enough to catch a little kids head ducking by a table and the sound that followed after it.

Rogue lifted an eyebrow. “That makes you the poor sap who gets to clean that up,” he finished. Sting groaned and feigned annoyance but he knew better than to argue with the boss.

Groggily he stepped out from behind the counter and walked over to where a very distraught mother was soothing her sons back while he groaned into a napkin. As soon as Sting approached she looked up horrified. Sting didn’t think he looked that bad today?

“Is everything ok?” Sting asked in his nicest voice.

The mother was the one to reply, shaking her brown head of hair. “I think he just had too much to eat.” Then she leaned into her son and whispered into his ear though Sting could still hear it, “I told you you should have stayed home today, you’re not well enough.”

The son grimaced but he was done puking and he pulled the cloth from his mouth to grumble, “‘m fine, mom.” He spat into the napkin, folded it and wiped his mouth once more with the clean end.

Sting looked over the contents of the boys stomach on the floor. Crouching down Sting made eye contact with the kid who had to be little older than twelve. “Do you want a water or anything? On the house?”

The kid gave him a nasty side eye up and down then turned his head away. “You’re bleeding through your pants,” he said loudly and clearly. Sting’s eyes shot wide open. “Gross, get away from me, fag.”

“Markus!” the mother reprimanded before shoving her child to the front door and barely looking Sting’s way. Subconsciously Sting looked down, he was indeed bleeding through his only pair of white pants. It had gotten so bad a blotchy spot even appeared on the small section that hung down from his navy blue apron.

When he stood up he could practically feel liquid running down his leg and to make things worse that kid’s outburst had every eye in the small bakery staring at him. Someone shuffled behind the counter and Sting turned to see Rogue staring blankly at him. Soon Rogue’s eyebrows scrunched together and he began to walk around the side of the counter, abandoning the little black book they used for their finances in his stride.

Sting swallowed roughly. His heart was pounding, he couldn’t stop sweating and that puke right under his nose made him queasy. Top it off with Rogue’s confused gaze as he strode forward and Sting wanted nothing more than to evaporate.

Before Rogue could reach him Sting stumbled backwards and held up a hand. “I’ll get the mop,” he said and practically ran to the back room.

Yukino caught sight of him from the open door to the kitchen, her gaze curiously following his movements completely unaware of anything that just happened. She must have sensed Sting’s urgency though as he ripped an empty mop bucket from under the industrial sink and began filling it.

Yukino walked over, concern in her face. “Are you-”

“No,” Sting answered curtly without any explanation, already starting to rip off his ruined apron. “Rogue needs a mop out there,” he said then left the back room, with the tap still running water into the bucket, to slip between the register counter to the customers bathroom. It was the only bathroom they had in this place. He locked the door with finality praying to any god that would listen that Rogue hadn’t just witnessed everything he thought he had.

It wasn’t like Sting had ever formally come out before. By the time he realized he was trans it was senior year in high school and his father had helped him so much with the transition. But he was about the only person who did. Sting’s slow transformation didn’t go unnoticed by the students or faculty but he had never really told anyone either.

His senior year didn’t end like all the other kids did; in happy memories and scholarships for college. His senior year ended in medical bills and miserable life experiences. This town was supposed to be an out from that. Sabertooth Square was supposed to be his do over.

It had worked for a while. He found friends that took him for who he was and he never had to explain to them his gender. Though they never knew him in the past so they probably wouldn’t have known anyway. Well they _definitely_ wouldn’t have known if this didn’t just happen.

“Oh my god…” Sting breathed, beginning to hyperventilate. “Did that really just happen?” He stared at himself in the mirror and nearly flinched. He looked so pale, a few of his tan freckles stood out. But they were usually so light that they couldn’t be seen on his face. Only when he was sick or low on blood sugar was he ever pale enough for them to show. He didn’t think he was either right now but so much was wrong with today why not add another thing to the list?

Sting’s blonde hair was messy, sticking back in spikes like it usually does but the front was limp and sweaty. He had bags under his eyes that he didn’t think were there before but maybe the flourescent lights of the bathroom were just getting to him. He hated his own reflection. He began to despise the reflection that stared back at him with such uncertain eyes, just like he had years before his transition. All that anguish he felt was just swimming under their glossy surface begging to come out.

He blinked a few tears away and turned to sit on the toilet. Head in his hands he tried to control his breathing. He had to get out of these clothes somehow. It was only an hour and a half until he got to go home damnit why was this happening now?

His heart leapt out of his chest when he heard someone knock on the door. Out of habit and stupid reflex he croaked out, “Be done in a minute!” Voice obviously too high pitched and cracked to sound casual.

“Sting?” Rogue’s deep voice sounded through the thick pine door. “Is everything ok?”

Sting just stared at the door for a while. He didn’t know what he could say that wouldn’t jeopardize everything. He didn’t want Rogue to know he was trans. Not until after he was able to afford bottom surgery and maybe not even then. He’d sooner completely forget his birth gender than admit to anyone what he was.

“Listen, if you wanna take the rest of the day off,” Rogue continued and Sting sucked in a loud sob. “I’m not gonna keep you here after that. I’ll pick up your shift until someone else comes in.”

Now it was all Sting could do to keep his sobs quiet. He hoped Rogue couldn’t hear them through the door but he was so hopeless and they sounded loud even to him. There was no way Sting could answer Rogue with his lips contorting the way they were. And he didn’t trust his voice not to crack or hiccup through a sentence.

“Sting,” Rogue’s voice dropped an octave. It turned soft and Sting wasn’t ready for the change. “You don’t have to hide. I’ll have Minerva bring you some fresh clothes then you can go home, alright?...Please just let me know you’re alive and I don’t have to call an ambulance.”

Sting took a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he answered finally and thought he heard Rogue breathe a sigh of relief through the door. “Just-” he bit his lip. “Rough day, y’know.”

Rogue was silent for a while and Sting almost thought he had walked away. “Can I come in?” his voice was quiet, tentative.

Sting’s laugh surprised even himself. “You don’t wanna see this.”

“C’mon, man, I’ve seen you drunk and dancing half-naked on my kitchen table. What else is there to hide?”

Sting had to suppress an inward sigh but he rolled his eyes. Begrudgingly he stood up, another wave of cramps hitting him as he did and unlocked the bathroom door. Rogue made sure to open the door just enough for him to squeeze through then shut it again quietly.

Sting didn’t know what to do. So he just stood there, arms crossed over his chest, almost shivering from nerves.

“I knew you looked beat this morning but suddenly it’s like you aged ten years,” Rogue joked and Sting had half a mind to slap him.

“Kids, huh?” Sting tried for a chuckle and smile but fell terribly short. “They say the darndest things.”

Rogue looked down at his feet before replying. “You don’t have to be ashamed. No one here is judging you for something like that. If that mother hadn’t left so quickly I would have made sure to get a name so I could ban them from coming here.”

Sting shook his head and turned away. “You don’t have to be so drastic.”

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and it shocked him just how much he tensed under it. “Sting, I mean it. I don’t tolerate that kind of hate. And I tolerate you being so down on yourself even less.” Sting’s gaze dropped. _Wow, I’m crying_ , he thought. _Huh, weird._

“I’ll pick up the rest of your shift today and call Minerva. She can walk to your place to pick up some new clothes, hangover or not. You wanna wait in the backroom? Or should I just kick everyone out of the store to save you the embarrassment?” Rogue said with a smile in his tone.

Sting chuckled through his tears. “Stop being so nice to me, I’ll choke.”

To his delight Rogue chuckled back. “Get used to it, Eucliffe. I treat all my employees like family.” Rogue thought for a moment. “Actually better than my own family. But you should see them during get togethers, you wouldn’t blame me.” There was a tense moment where Sting took some deep breaths to try and stop shaking. Rogue broke the silence by placing another hand on his shoulder and bringing him in for a hug.

“You’ll be okay,” Rogue whispered into his ear.

 _Only as long as you keep holding me._ Sting thought it, but kept his mouth shut as his eyes closed involuntarily. He tried to breathe in Rogue’s scent but couldn’t smell anything. Because Rogue already smelt like home.

* * *

 

**Bonus:**

“What did you mean you’ve seen my dance naked on your kitchen table?” Sting asked suddenly pulling away from Rogue’s embrace.

The other boy just chuckled. “Half-naked,” he corrected. “You tend to take your shirt off when you drink too much.”

Sting’s eyes widened and he felt his heart spike with adrenaline. “Sooo..?” He trailed off the question was in his mind and on his face but he couldn’t voice it.

Rogue nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes we saw your top surgery scar.” Sting’s eyes widened further than humanly possible. Mortification crept up his spine like an old friend. Rogue took one look at Stings face and his expression softened. “No, no don’t look so scared. Most of us already knew anyway and-”

“MOST OF YOU ALREADY KNEW?! Most of who?” Sting blurted out. He was afraid his voice could be heard even from outside the bathroom but he was too nervous of everything to care.

Rogue paused and began counting on his fingers. “Well it was the week after Lucy quit...so actually only me, Minerva and Yukino were there.”

Sting took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he’d already outed himself like this. He ran a hand through his greasy hair and took a few pacing steps. “How did you already know?”

Rogue giggled and looked away sheepishly. “Well there was this other time you got drunk…”

Sting groaned and threw his head into his hands. “I’m never drinking again.”


End file.
